Explore "The Tollman's Daughter" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ She stood waist-deep among the briers: / Above in twisted lengths were rolled / The sunset's tangled whorls of gold, / Blown from the west's cloud-pillared fires. / And in the hush no sound did mar, / You almost heard o'er hill and dell, / Deep, bubbling over, star on star, / The night's blue cisterns slowly well. / A crane, like some dark crescent, crossed / The sunset, winging towards the west; / While up the east her silver breast / Of light the moon brought, white as frost.
/ So have I painted her, you see, / The tollman's daughter. -- What an arm / And throat was hers! and what a form! -- / Art dreams of such divinity. / What braids of night to hold and kiss! / There is no pigment anywhere / A man might use to picture this -- / The splendour of her raven hair. / A face as beautiful and bright, / As rosy fair as twilight skies, / Lit with the stars of hazel eyes / And eyebrowed black with pencilled night.